Rewriting The Future
by Dragon'sHost
Summary: Rogue decides to rewrite the future, using the only option available to him. Much to a watching blonde girl's horror.


**Originally, this was going to be a much longer one-shot. But then I decided to separate the scenes into two parts. I am drafting a sequel to this – hopefully a much happier one.**

**But in the meantime, here is something dark.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.**

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"No."

The Shadow Dragon Slayer collapsed to his knees, shaking uncontrollably. "You're lying!" he shouted, covering his ears. _As if it would block out what the dragon and his own shadow were saying_. But even as he did it, he knew it was futile gesture. "Liars!"

Deep laughter from lungs far greater than Rogue's own accompanied the human's screams of denial. "Give up, Rogue," the dragon growled, cerulean head inclined to regard Rogue with amusement. "Your soul is stained and steeped in the shadows. You will rule – and everyone else shall perish."

His shadow chuckled in its dark mirth. "I am your desires made manifest, Rogue. You want power. Power to crush those who stand in your way. The future is nigh, the time of your rule approaching fast. Welcome it!"

Rogue's heart clenched at the whispers in his head and soul, urging him to give in. Accept what his future self had so readily handed over to him. "No," he whispered, and even to him it sounded weak. "I won't claim happiness at the cost of my friends'. Their deaths won't make me happy! It's not what I want!"

"But it is," the two beings chorused, their voices a dark, twisting melody more foul than shadows. "It's already happened Rogue. Just accept it already and end this pathetic farce."

To his unending shame and horror, a part of Rogue agreed with them. It wanted all that was being offered.

But that small section of himself was overwhelmingly outvoted by the rest. He wouldn't hurt his friends! He wouldn't kill them!

He had to do something! Rogue couldn't just cower before these two monsters and expect everything to work out just fine. Things were never that easy. Not for him. Never for him.

But what could he possibly do? Attack and destroy his future self? That wouldn't work – by definition he didn't stand a chance against his counterpart. The man had seven years' worth of experience on him. It would be like baring his fangs at the blood-red moon, while it stared coldly down upon his hollow efforts.

Aside from which, he didn't think he could slip past the dragon in his path. Even if he could there was no way he could allow it to engage other mages. They weren't Dragon Slayers. They wouldn't stand a chance and he couldn't afford to take it. And his shadow… his shadow he couldn't escape. It was a part of him, his magic and his soul.

In a flash, he knew what to do. There was only one thing he could do to rewrite this future. To change everything that was to come.

It would be beyond difficult. Painful past description. He was terrified of that option – so many things to regret. But then again, he wouldn't have that luxury. This selfish choice would be his solution.

Dropping his hands, he rose to his feet again. Struggling not to sway he faced the finned behemoth.

"Are you going to come quietly, then? Have you accepted your fate?" it rumbled.

Rogue's crimson gaze rose to meet dragon gold. "Fuck. You."

It roared at the audacity in the face of its might.

Sting would have been so proud.

Metal scraping upon a sheath rang through the air as Rogue withdrew his katana. Scarlet moonlight and cerulean scales reflected off its glimmering length. Although his did not often require the use of the blade, tonight it was perfect for his intentions. Ignoring every screaming instinct in his body, he turned his back on the enraged dragon and faced his shadow.

It dark form wavered as the blade's tip rested on the rubble and its neck. "What are you doing?" it hissed. "Think about it. All that you've ever dreamed of. It's already yours! You're not foolish enough to throw that all away, are you?! You know what will happen if you…"

"Yes. I do. I'm counting on it," Rogue intoned, his eyes cold specks of coagulated blood. How could he forget? It was the one thing his foster father had warned him repeatedly not to do.

Skiadrum's voice resounded in his head, an unwelcome ghost in the hallways of his memories.

_**Rogue. When you fight, you must take extra precaution to never let your attacks reach your own shadow. In many past human tongues the words 'shadow' and 'soul' were written as one and the same – one of the few things the species has ever been correct about. All souls are tied to shadows, but our shadows, my son, are tied also to our magic and our bodies.**_

Rogue could save the future.

At the cost of his own.

"Frosch, I'm sorry," Rogue whispered. "Sting, take care of Frosch, Lector, the guild, and yourself." The words were pouring out of him, and he couldn't stem the flow. He didn't want to. "Yukino, I'm sorry for not saying anything when you were expulsed." Hesitating for a moment, he added, since there was no one left to hear it anyway, his final regret. "Lucy Heartfilia. I wish I could've apologized for what Minerva did. I'm so sorry."

With that, he raised the blade and gripped the handle with both of his hands.

The shadow screeched at him. Pleaded and tried to bargain. To no avail.

Rogue's mind was made up.

So it was not with victory he slammed the blade into the shadow's heart, but cold finality and a fleeting thought that he might have liked to see another sunrise. He had always liked those.

The pain, when it came but half a second after the gleaming metal pierced the shadow and the ground behind it, wasn't anything like what Rogue had imagined.

It was far, far worse.

A strangled cry fell from his lips as his legs buckled and bright sunbursts flashed across his vision. His weapon stood when his hands slipped in their grasp, embedded too deeply into the rubble to fall with its owner.

It felt like he was being torn apart from the inside. When his skin opened and blood began seeping into his clothes, somewhere in the back of his mind he acknowledged that it was the truth.

Cold stone met his back, and he tightly shut his eyes.

As he lay upon the ground, he fought to keep his magic from automatically trying to repair the damage.

Golden light washed over his closed eyelids, and a wail of despair found its way to his ears. Blearily, he opened his crimson orbs again.

Only to see a sunrise.

Soon enough the image resolved itself into the sobbing form of Fairy Tail's Celestial Mage. Motes of light floated around her from the disappearing dragon, glinting off her already golden tresses and casting her in the light of the stars and sunrise still hours off. Tears trailed down her face, the glow reflecting in them. With his keen vision, Rogue could even discern prisms of rainbows in the depths of the liquid that dripped onto him.

In that moment, he thought her the most beautiful thing in the world.

She was mumbling through the cries that clogged her throat. "No… no… no you can't do this… please no. Don't go. You didn't have to… we would've found a way! Idiot, idiot, idiot, idiot… this makes no one happy!"

With the last of his waning strength, he lifted his hand and brushed her cheek clear of saltwater. Then it fell limp to the ground and his eyes slid shut.

Before the shadows completely stole him away, he thought he heard her gut-wrenching screaming.

"WENDY! WENDY! PLEASE, HELP US! SAVE HIM! WENDY!" She trailed off as her hoarse voice failed her.

"I'm sorry," Rogue mumbled as he felt more pieces of him slip away. "For Minerva."

Lucy wailed as she felt him leaving her behind.

"_**WENDY!"**_

Rogue's heart was still full of regrets.

But at least he'd gotten to see that final sunrise.

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